


Starlit Skies of Fallen Dreams

by Momphos



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Prince!Parv, Servant!Strife
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:05:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3408212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Momphos/pseuds/Momphos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Strife moved to the castle he didn't know just how much of a handful being the personal servant to prince Parv was going to be. Spoilt and taking misbehaving to an all new level, will Parv ever learn to mature? And will Strife see beyond the behaviour, to discover the lonely child Parv truly is?<br/>Not to mention, can they ever truly be together? Or will Parv's responsibilities as prince get in the way of their happiness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Starlit Skies of Fallen Dreams

The temperature inside the castle was significantly colder than the warm summer air outside. A chill seemed to seep into the very bones of Strife as he followed his uncle Xephos up the stones steps carpeted in fine red cloth, adding to his feeling of wariness and apprehension. Whilst the building felt eerily quiet, each footstep from the pair echoing off the walls, the decoration showed no signs of expense being spared. But from what the farm boy knew of the royal family that ruled the kingdom he lived in they were no strangers to luxury, and the vast amount of paintings, drapes and torches situated in ornate wall sconces were a testament to that.

“I’m so glad you got here as quickly as you did, the Prince is in desperate need of a new servant.” His uncle’s voice contained an air of worry as it always tended to, almost as if it was part of his job description to be anxious about everything.

“Thanks for telling me work was available, I was getting desperate.” Xephos paused at the top corridor for a few moments to look down at his cousin, eyes conveying his sympathy. He was aware of the troubles that had befallen Strife’s family and whilst he made no comment, the words of concern and care hung in the air between them like dripping candle wax. After a few fleeting seconds he turned back again, motioning to the elaborately carved wooden door before them.

“Here are his chambers, I’ll introduce you.” With a gulp Strife straightened his back, trying to remember how he was supposed to act around royalty. He couldn’t mess this up, a role as personal servant to the prince was a high honour. How the job was even available was an answer he didn’t know.

The doors creaked open slowly, revealing the room before the two inch by inch. The first thing Strife noticed was the amount of red furnishings – from the curtains to the pillows, all were varying shades of red dye he knew was expensive to procure. They helped to bathe the space in a faint hue that felt more welcoming than the grey corridors of the rest of the castle, but only slightly. At the far end of the room leaning against the generously large windowsill stood a figure wrapped in a cloak made of fine velvet. His attention was focused on watching the early sunlight slowly filtering over the castle walls and into the room, eyes glazed.

 

“Prince Parvis, your new servant has arrived.” At the sound of Xephos breaking the silence he turned around, pushing away from the wall to advance towards the two at the door. As he approached Strife noticed how considerably taller he was than himself, although looking up at people was something he was used to. An unreadable glint was present in the dark brown eyes as he began to circle around him, and Strife had the uncomfortable feeling of being viewed like a piece of meat.

“Are you serious Xephy? This is the best you could do? He’s so tiny.” The farm boy had to blink a few times, registering what was being said about him. The hostility of the prince’s voice caught him off guard; surely he wasn’t that unappealing to look at? Granted he was small but he was strong, and he had to bite his tongue to the retaliation he would give if he was speaking to anyone else.

“H-he’s more than capable of serving you, your highness.” Xephos laughed nervously, hands fiddling with the front of his shirt. The Prince made a disinterested grunt, looking over Strife once more before turning away with a swish of his cloak. “His name is Strife; I have the upmost faith in his abilities.” His uncle added hastily, as if afraid the prince would turn his relative away before giving him a chance to prove himself.

“He’ll do. But he better be good.” Strife turned to look up at his uncle, at a loss for how to respond. Xephos gave an exasperated smile before encouraging him to speak with a nod.

“I uhh, I’ll do my best,” he thought for a few seconds before quickly adding, “Your uhm, highness.” With a polite cough and bow Xephos took his leave, giving one last look to his cousin before closing the doors behind him.

The silence that descended now he was left alone with the prince was suffocating. All his worries and doubts about his capabilities for the job seemed to crash against him all at once, he was working for _the prince_. It was his job alone to tend to his every need, to do whatever he says and always be on call no matter the time. Strife felt his heartrate pick up as he stared at the back of the man before him and tried to remember how to keep his breath steady.

“Well Strifey - that’s your name isn’t it? Strifey? Whatever, your first job can be to go fetch me breakfast.” With a direction Strife snapped back to himself, jolting a little as he nodded, turning to walk towards the door. “And I want something nice,” Parv added whilst moving to lie down on the bed. “I won’t eat any of that slop they try to feed me Oh, and you better be quick, I have cold food.”

“Okay your highness, and it’s just Strife.” He could hear the sound of a huff at his comment as he closed the door behind him, letting out a loud sigh. The prince sure did seem to be a handful, but he supposed growing up being weighted on hand and foot would do that to someone. Strife would just have to prove that he was up to the task – he’d handled horses, tended corn fields in the winter and chased wolves off his farm in the past. One spoilt prince couldn’t be that more of a challenge.

He briefly spoke to Xephos in the kitchen whilst the breakfast was being prepared, helping to plate up the food onto a tray he could easily carry back up the stairs. Prince Parv he learned was the only child of the king and for as long as he could move he’d caused trouble for the staff. He was cheeky and mischievous by nature, and his uncle warned him to be wary of his tricks.

With a thankful nod for the advice Strife took his leave, brow furrowed as he tried to remember his way back to the room from whence he had come. Luckily his memory didn’t fail him and within a few minutes he pushed his way through the doors to the bedroom, standing for a moment and clearing his throat.

“Your breakfast, your highness.”

Parv bounced up from his bed, motioning for Strife to place the tray down on the table situated near the fireplace as he walked over to one of the accompanying chairs. He crossed his legs on the chair in a way Strife thought was strangely childish, as he presented the food to him and stood awkwardly to the side. With a wave of his hand the prince indicated he should sit opposite him as he began to pick at the food with his fingers.

With a polite nod Strife sat down, the thought of how the embroidery alone on the chair he now sat on was probably worth more than his lifetime salary briefly crossing his mind. He wasn’t sure if it was his place to strike up conversation so he opted to remain quiet, watching Parv nibble at the bread and sugary pastry he had brought up for him. He made no faces of disgust so he could only assume he had been satisfactory in his first task, and the knowledge helped to settle his nerves a little.

“Today I need you to clean my room, oh and fetch my new clothes from the tailors, and I think my curtains need washing they look soooo dirty don’t you think?” The sudden rush of conversation brought Strife out of his thoughts, making a mental list of the chores he was being assigned.

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

“You better not mess up the placement of anything in the room though Strifey, or I’ll get mad. Everything’s gotta go back exactly where it is, okay?” Strife frowned slightly at the odd request but nodded anyway, surely he couldn’t be too hard to achieve that. After a few more moments picking Parv pushed the plate away from him, uncurling himself to stand up.

“I’m off to the garden; you better finish all those tasks by the time I’m back.” Strife opened his mouth to ask when that would be but the prince had already stalked out of the room, leaving him alone. With an irritated sigh at the princes’ childish nature he stood up, beginning the task of cleaning the room.

The room had been surprisingly dusty despite its outwardly clean appearance, and he agreed that the curtains did indeed need cleaning after observing the dirtiness of the water after he had finished scrubbing them. He was about to leave to find where the tailors were situated in the castle when a dirty faced and slightly scratched Parv prowled into the room, eyes flicking around at the furniture suspiciously.

“I guess this is a bit cleaner.” He grumbled, turning his attention to the servant stood in the middle of the room looking mildly panicked. “You didn’t put the rug back right though, or the mirror, and what are you blind? The sheets didn’t look anything like that when I left.”

“I did the best I could your high-“

“And where are my new clothes?” he demanded, pulling a face similar to an angry pout, folding his arms questioningly.

“Well you see, I was just about to-“

“Unacceptable Strifey, you didn’t do as I said. No good points for you.” Strife gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to fight back against the unjust comments. He was just one man, and he’d _almost_ completed all the tasks. “Now I need a bath, pour me hot water into the tub.” He pointed to the corner of the room where the metal tub stood, beginning to remove his clothes.

With a quiet growl Strife left to retrieve a jugful of hot water, muttering to himself about the impossible demands and irritating attitude the man he had to serve had. It took him 5 trips to fill the bath to an acceptable height for Parv, who unceremoniously threw his shirt directly into the face of Strife with a smirk as he moved to sit in the tub. Shaking with anger he barely supressed the need to retaliate, swallowing his pride as he firmly put the shirt onto the bed before picking up the wash cloth.

 

“That’s right Strifey, wash your prince. Don’t miss anywhere, I’m a dirty boy.”

“How did you even get this messy?” Strife grumbled, carefully scrubbing away the smears of dirt on Parv’s shoulders. He could see grass tufts in his hair and he knew they’d be a pain to remove. The prince snorted, settling against the wall of the tub.

“I was playing with the dogs, oh and then the gardener caught me in the flower beds and started yelling so I rolled around in them for a bit.” Strife paused for a moment, having to remind himself the man before him was at least 20. He’d never met someone so childish in his life, he couldn’t possibly be real.

It took a full hour to remove all the dirt and grime from Parv’s fair complexion, especially as he yelled the room down when Strife tried to pull the dirt clumps fused into his hair. It took all of his patience not to snap and yell at him, focusing instead on the task and ignoring the whining complaints directed at him. He knew it was all just to get a reaction out of him, and he refused to give him that satisfaction.

When he was clean and redressed into his evening wear Parv dismissed him for the night, explaining how he was meant to dine with his father tonight. When Strife heard this he tried to persuade him to perhaps wear something a little more formal but the prince would have none of it, shooing him out of the room as he departed on the way to the main hall.

With a groan Strife yawned, heading down the servants wing to grab a quick bite to eat and some well needed rest. Xephos was still hard at work preparing the evening meal so he didn’t bother him further than a quick smile as he grabbed the bread and cheese from the counter, making his way to where his bed was. It was small and made of old and tattered cloth but it looked comfortable at least.

After finishing his small meal and removing the shirt from him he laid down, letting out a deep breath at the feel of lying down. He thought his first day had gone well, he hadn’t completely lived up to his expectations, but at the same time he hadn’t lost his temper at the prince. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to relax, trying to forget how when he woke up he’d have to scurry around like a rat once more. With a deep huff he drifted off to sleep, _why did he have to have landed up working for the largest asshole this side of the kingdom?_


End file.
